One must tread lightly

A very scary thing happened last night (Michael Jackson scary, not Michael Myers scary). I was overtaken with complete abandon and a stickittothemanesque attitude and said “Hey, who cares that I weigh 355 pounds! I paid for that biatch and I’m gonna use it any way I see fit.” and turned on the treadmill. After all, it’s just paperwork. Say I was a 355 pound MAN…you know those directions would never have seen the light of day and he would have hopped on that treadmill all willy nilly (pause and giggle as you imagine a 355 pound man doing ANYTHING “all willy nilly”…aaaand continue) none the wiser. He would have lost the necessary 55 pounds needed to qualify for treadmill use (faster than any female…the bastards) and he would have been damn proud of it.

Now, I by NO means broke any records. I’m not looking to break the thing…just use it. When I got the notion to throw caution to the wind I actually didn’t even expect to be able to. I expected the contraption to spew forth profanities that even the likes of Emily Rose have not encountered and send me plummeting off the back as the belt snapped and it instantly folded back up into space-saving position. I didn’t even put shoes on just knowing it would have been completely pointless because this just WASN’T going to work. Before plugging it in and turning the power on I said a quick prayer to the treadmill Gods and sacrificed Lola in hopes of appeasing them long enough to not break what I haven’t even finished paying for yet.

I stepped on ever so gingerly and listened for any bursting seems or popping springs and there was silence. I took a deep breath (hoping it would make me lighter) and moved my feet to the side rails as is recommended before starting the belt. They moved under my weight and I thought for a minute that I heard someone say “Oh good Jesus, NO!” I started the belt at 2 miles per hour so as not to test the Gods and stepped on. It stuttered at the strain of my first few steps and then slowly plugged along. I then decided I would only test it for 10 minutes and grabbed the 2 pound hand weights off the built in weight rack (I didn’t grab the 3-pounders fearing the difference of the 2 pounds could make or break this deal) to up myself to a cardio level that 2 miles per hour surely wouldn’t accomplish.

After 8 minutes the biceps started to burn and I put the weights back down. It was at this moment I wished I’d had more faith and turned the TV on before getting on. I probably would have lost track of time and gone over my allotted 10 minutes because I was actually enjoying it once the paranoia subsided. I’m sure you’re wondering what motivated me to take such a leap and the best I can surmise is that I watched Biggest Loser last night and saw more people doing what I wished I could. One couple lost a combined 55 pounds in two weeks. I ached to get on my treadmill throughout that entire show and held back. It wasn’t until 10 o’clock that I determined I was the gamblin’ kind and gave ‘er a go. I know I’ll ware the poor thing out if I go balls out on it at this weight but I don’t see any reason why I can’t continue at the pace I did last night for a longer period of time. I think tonight I’ll do 20 minutes and keep it at that for the next week or so. So, what’s my response to the 300 pound weight limit? Tread on I say…ever so lightly.

(note: No animals were harmed in the making of this blog entry. Sacrificing of dogs to Treadmill Gods simply requires dressing them in pink shirts that have rhinestones spelling Diva Dog on the back and locking them in their kennels…which, to her, is a fate worse than death.)

Depo Notfaira

For 4 years I had been on Depo Provera (gentlemen, this is an entry that you might want to avoid, but should you choose to read on and aren't privy to what Depo Provera is...the term "the shot" may better describe it for you). I went on "the shot" because Aunt Flo (I think you know who I mean) was on a rampage. Girl was TRIPPIN! I'll save you the gory details and simply say...I should have taken stock out in Tampax.

Depo, originally, was a God send. Aunt Flo packed her bags and headed out for good. She called once in a while but she never said much and kept her conversations short. Now, I got it in my head one day in September that stopping one's Aunt from visiting for FOUR years just was NOT healthy and stopped getting the shot. It has taken that long for it to completely get out of my system and GOOD LORD has December/January been a rough one.

Back in the day I didn't suffer from a lot of the PMS I'd heard about and now that it's all coming back it's like it's taking all four years of hiatus and pummeling me with it all in one whack. You name the PMS symptom and I've not only had it but I've had it with such intensity that if I were a man (which doesn't sound half bad right now) my schnutz would not only have shriveled up but they would have gone inverted. From cravings to bloating to cramps I am the walking, talking poster-child for Midol.

I'm back to my heaviest weight again and my treadmill came yesterday and I'm too fat to use it. I'm so above and beyond the weight limit on it that it's sitting ever so sleekly in my living room mocking me. I'm devastated. I got a treadmill to lose weight and I can't use my treadmill UNTIL I lose weight. Oh the inhumanity. Most of the aforementioned symptoms have gone save for the bloating and the cravings. Now I'm exhausted and disgusted with myself. GRRRRR! So not fair!

What a difference a week makes

I have been on an eleven-day spree of laziness. Others call it vacation but that would suggest taking time off work with intent to go somewhere or do something. I, however, did nothing...and loved it.

With the exception of when I had my nephew for two nights the rest of the time was spent in a manner that would suggest I was training for the Couch Potato Olympics. I even have a touch of a sprained hand from the frantic channel changing. I think that other than when I vacuumed one afternoon that the most exercise I got was walking to the kitchen for snacks or walking to either go to the bathroom or go to bed. All of which I planned around when Lola needed to go outside so as not to overdo it. I watched movies and slept in. I ate out and ordered in. I read a little and napped a lot. I was the poster child for two of the seven deadly sins (though familiar with Dante's I prefer Brad Pitt's explanation MUCH better). GLUTTONY and SLOTH! That was me.

I also avoided the scale for fear it would be insanely high. Finally on Friday I managed to muster up the gumption to get on the scale and face my maker. I got on and off of it 5 times to make sure the number was right. I had somehow managed to lose 4 pounds. Uh huh, you read that right...FOUR! As of then I was at 344. WOO HOO! New Year's Eve has since come and gone so who knows what it's at now but I'll avoid the scale a few more days and see what Friday brings.

Today I sat eating Taco Bell as a final hurrah to 2005 before I renewed my devotion to me and turned on the Discovery Health Channel. It was show after show of morbidly obese people and gastric bypass surgeries and it was disturbing to say the least. I eventually tried to find something else to watch and flipped through channels (despite my sprained hand) only to be sucked into the Shop At Home channel just as they were showing a treadmill. I've been wanting a treadmill FOREVER!!!!! I haven't gotten one because I don't have the money to shell out all at once like that. They were offering free shipping and you could stretch the payments over 5 months.

I was torn. I couldn't make the decision to call. I'd missed the big description of all it’s features and was just going off what I could see. They showed the little hand weights that come on it for you to grab as you're working out. They showed the shock absorption and made you think intently about how it would save your knees. Then, the hook...it's got a built in fan right smack in front of you for while you're working out. Though it's still going to be hard for me I made a mad dash for the phone as I only had 2 minutes to call. I'm such a sucker but come on...I'd just watched a story on the half ton man. It's like the two channels were in cahoots or something. It worked like a charm.

In 21 days I will be the proud owner of a treadmill (no, not a towel rack). It will be big. It will be pretty. It will call my living room home so it can stare and me while I'm sitting on the couch and guilt me into exercising. I will walk on it while I watch TV so I can't ever say I couldn't do it because my show was on and it was in the other room...besides, the invention of TiVo pretty much ruined that excuse for me. I will do it every day and I will turn into a svelte hottie before your eyes.

My week of gluttony and sloth has left me feeling rested and ready for the journey again so I'd say this vacation was a smashing success. I'm going to need that week of rest to make up for all the over time I'm going to have to put in to be able to afford my treadmill. 2006 is my year...mark my words.